


Helplessly, Head over Heels

by clandestine7



Series: their dances [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Romance, can you believe yuri inspired the eros routine, ep 10 ending, he fell in love on the dance floor, victor fell hard and fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestine7/pseuds/clandestine7
Summary: Victor falls in love on the dance floor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm Dead. (This is yet another schlep-over from tumblr)

When Yuri Katsuki from Japan stumbles onto the floor, Victor lowers his champagne glass from his lips, quirks an eyebrow, and watches. So does the rest of the room, hands going over mouths, the edges of grins peeking through, fingers pointing.

“This is going to be good,” Christophe says, snatching Victor’s phone off the table and opening the camera.

When Yuri Katsuki turns their way, champagne sloshing out of the bottle, and notices the camera aimed at him, Victor is intrigued, and also quite wary. Yuri Katsuki stumbles over, leans up close to the phone, and says with a smirk and a drawl that can only be accidental, “Watch me.”

Face red, he dances away, very drunk but also alarmingly coordinated, a reckless abandon he didn’t possess on the ice. He kicks into the air, flings his head back, and pours the champagne right down his throat.

Christophe whistles, and starts to rise, his own phone in hand now. But then Yuri Katsuki grabs hold of the Yuri who hisses and spits and tries to claw himself free, and Victor laughs and jumps to his feet.

“Yuri! Dance battle!” he calls, and both Yuris look his way, one in bleary-eyed, goofy-grinned glee, the other stony and murderous.

Yuri Katsuki flings off his coat, slurs something under his breath, and suddenly both Yuris are throwing themselves around the dance floor. Yuri Katsuki relishes a challenge, and can dance, and it would be a shame not to capture this.

When Yuri Katsuki notices him filming, Victor smiles sheepishly. When Yuri Katsuki grabs his hand and says, “Dance with me,” Victor has one second, and then he’s being swept away, stomach lost for several seconds more.

He doesn’t need to be drunk to dance; rather, he gets intoxicated on energy, and Yuri’s leaves him breathless. They dance apart at first, two men commanding the floor, revolving around one another like they are caught in each other’s gravity. Yuri’s shirt becomes steadily more unbuttoned, his tie steadily more undone. Victor’s fingers itch, but these aren’t his doing.

And then Yuri takes his hand again, skin practically pulsing with heat as surely his heart is, and says, “I’m the lead.”

Yuri isn’t at all demure, hands on Victor’s waist, arms wrapping all the way around him, bodies together and apart and together. And the whole time his expression is soft - it has softened out so much from that initial drunken grin - and careful and focused, like this dance is the most important thing he has ever done. His eyes hold all his exhilaration, worlds and worlds of sunrises and sunsets and radiant, blinding light, and Victor is starting to feel something else.

Not intrigue, and not humor, not even breathless anymore. They’re in perfect rhythm, he and this young man he hardly knows who has swept him right off of his feet. The bump and clasp and slide of their fingers, the way when one kicks the other is ready to hold them steady, the pinpoint timing of their gazes meeting and lips lifting - everything synchronized without effort. Or, he realizes, synchronized under Yuri’s lead. 

He hears Yuri’s breathing, feels it against his face when they’re very close, alcohol-infused and so near laughter. The high buzzing through him is one he used to get during perfect skates, when the world opened up before him, endless with opportunity.

He notices, when Yuri dips him and holds the back of his head, when they are nose to nose, that Yuri’s laugh is like the bubbles in a glass of champagne, bright and bursting. Victor isn’t drunk, but he contemplates pretending to be if it would allow him to act just a bit more recklessly. But he is too captured by the joy being shown him, doesn’t need any more than this.

He notices, when Yuri dances on the pole with Christophe (and nearly as naked as Christophe), exertion shining on his skin beneath the crystal chandeliers, that Yuri’s grace is rough-edged. That his back curves magnificently, that he looks beautiful twined around someone else, that he gets a smolder in his eyes that puts the word _Eros_ into Victor’s head, a suggestive little whisper, a nudge for later.

When Yuri gets back into his clothes, chest heaving and giggles spilling from his lips, Victor wants to know him more. When Yuri meets his eyes, the space between them vanishes, and when Yuri’s eyes close into a smile, Victor’s don’t because he can’t look away.

When Yuri Katsuki from Japan - tie wrapped around his head, arms wrapped around Victor, face a sweaty red mess and eyes shining with worlds Victor can only hope to know (and might have just gotten a glimpse of in this whirlwind of time that just passed by) - asks Victor to be his coach, Victor thinks he might be helplessly, head over heels in love.


End file.
